


Albus Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Bloody Brilliant Day

by BookofSpells



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (read: attempts humor), AU, Despite Harry and Draco's Efforts, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, M/M, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Post-Hogwarts, Scorbus, They were both in Ravenclaw, Tumblr: scorbusfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-30 21:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofSpells/pseuds/BookofSpells
Summary: Albus slumped down onto the hard bench in the staff changing rooms and kicked off his muddied boots with a deep sigh. The relief on his aching feet was instantaneous, and so, regrettably, was the putrid stench of sweat and pixie dung that assaulted his nose.Fuck, he’d had a shitty day; literally.Luckily for Albus, his day was about to get much, much, better...





	Albus Potter and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Bloody Brilliant Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alikatastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alikatastic/gifts).

Albus slumped down onto the hard bench in the staff changing rooms and kicked off his muddied boots with a deep sigh. The relief on his aching feet was instantaneous, and so, regrettably, was the putrid stench of sweat and pixie dung that assaulted his nose. 

Fuck, he’d had a shitty day; literally. 

“Disgusting,” he all but gagged, wincing as the muscles in his back strained when he bent to retrieve the shoes from the floor. He cast a scourgify and simple refreshing charm on them before dropping the boots into his laundry bag. Next, he pulled off his equally filthy uniform and repeated the process until he was stark naked – save for a simple chain around his neck with a scorpion pendant that his boyfriend had gifted him at their graduation party. 

Albus fingered the little charm and felt his chilled skin begin to warm and tingle. It was a brilliant spell that Scorpius had added to replicate the feeling of their embrace whenever Albus touched it. As nice as it was, it wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the real thing, so Albus forced himself up from the bench and made his way to the showers. The sooner he washed and changed, the sooner he could apparate to Malfoy Manor; where, if they were _really_ lucky, Draco might leave them alone for a bit so they could snuggle in front of the new pensievison Scorpius had talked his father into purchasing. 

It took all of forty-five minutes for Albus to scrub himself free of dirt, grass, and other magical creature excrement that he deliberately tried not to think about, before he padded over to his locker for a fresh set of robes. Opening it, he smiled fondly at the card he’d eagerly attached with spell-o-tape on his first day at the menagerie. 

_Albus, _  
_Good luck on your first day! In no time you’ll be the most celebrated magizoologist in the world – and the best looking one to boot! I’m so proud of you._

_All my love,_  
_Scorpius_

At the time, Albus had been bursting at the seams with anticipation and excitement. All his hard work had paid off and he’d been recruited to London’s premiere magical sanctuary right out of Hogwarts. However, Albus had soon realised that being the youngest, least experienced member of the team meant that he was essentially the grunt. What he’d imagined to be a daily adventure of research, creature taming, and comradery with fellow Magizoologists, had turned out to be odd hours and long days filled with clean-up duty, scut work, and backbreaking labor. 

“Everyone’s got to do their time, kid,” his boss, Harold Hoggins, had said merrily, patting him on the back after his first week of Cornish pixie duty. “Prove you can handle this, and you’ll move up in no time.” 

That had been three months ago, and although Albus’ weekly progress reports had shown nothing but continuous improvement, little had changed.

By the time Albus was dry and dressed, he felt marginally better. Despite everything, knowing that he was on the right path toward his dream job made the hard times seem worthwhile. It also helped that for the first time since he’d started at the menagerie, Albus was looking forward to a _full_ weekend off. 

Scorpius, who had taken on a paid internship with one of the largest potions distributors in the country, enjoyed a nice, normal nine-to-five; weekends and holidays exempt; which Albus would have been more than happy about, if it didn’t mean that their time spent together was so limited. 

Albus supposed they’d been somewhat naive about life after school. There had been no doubt in either of their minds, as they lay behind Scorpius’ bed hangings whispering late into the night, that once they graduated everything would fall into place. In addition to starting their _fascinating_ new careers, they would go on romantic dates often – something that was impossible at Hogwarts – and _finally_ have some much deserved privacy to explore their relationship in a more physical way. 

Tragically, in Albus’ opinion, not only had they failed to make time for more than a few dinner dates, they remained pathetically virginal eighteen year olds thanks to the twin cock-blocks known as Harry _sodding_ Potter and Draco _bloody_ Malfoy. Finding dark alcoves for snogging and a bit of frottage may had been difficult at Hogwarts, but it was practically impossible in their parents’ homes.

At the Potter house, an unspoken but firm open door policy remained in place – the policy being that if a door was closed, Harry would find an excuse to open it. _‘Is that Scorpius I hear? Wonderful. Why don’t you boys come down for a spot of tea’. Or, Albus’ personal favourite: ‘Why would you want to spend a Tuesday evening locked up in Al’s room? Why don’t we take the brooms out for a spin around the orchard?’_

Scorpius, who’d played keeper for three years on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, couldn’t resist the appeal of flying with the famous Harry Potter. Albus, on the other hand, hated flying and his dad damn well knew it. 

It was even worse at Malfoy Manor. Albus’ dad wouldn’t leave them alone in his bedroom, but he would occasionally make himself scarce when they cuddled on the porch swing or the sitting room sofa. Draco on the other hand, stuck to the two of them like glue – going as far as to invite himself on walks through the grounds, trips to the kitchen for snacks, and once, on a date to a Muggle cinema. Scorpius, who rarely got pissed off about anything, had spent the evening glaring daggers at his seemingly oblivious father; later admitting that he’d only suggested a film because Hugo had hinted to him that darkened theatres were an opportune place for discrete hand jobs. 

Albus chuckled bitterly to himself at the memory. At this point, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the opportunity to wrap his fingers around his boyfriend’s pert cock and watch him come undone; cinema, back alley, unoccupied loo – it didn't matter.

“You alright, kid?” 

Albus nearly jumped at the sound, so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard Mr. Hoggins approach. 

“Not going loopy on me now, are ya?” The old man grinned widely, amusement flickering across his weathered features. 

“No, sir,” Albus assured quickly. “Just a little tired.”

“I imagine so, them pixies are a right menace. Big hit with the little un’s, though.” 

Albus thought _‘menace’_ was too kind a word for the miniature terrorists, but he knew better than to vocalise that. “They aren’t that bad,” he said instead. 

Harold let out a booming laugh, his massive middle jiggling. “No need to lie, boy. They’re devils. Come along to my office. Got summat to talk to you ‘bout.” 

Swallowing down a wave of panic, Albus nodded and followed his boss down the corridor. He’d only been to Mr. Hogging’s office once before – the day he interviewed for the position. At the time, he’d been so nervous that he’d nearly sweat through his robes. Now, he could already feel a fresh sheen of moisture breaking out near his temples. 

When they arrived, he motioned for Albus to take a seat opposite him and dropped heavily into his own chair, wiggling a bit to squeeze between the arms. “You’d think the head of administrations around here would be able to petition for a bigger chair,” he said wryly, finally settling in with a grunt. “S’pose I ought to lose a few pounds. Never could say no to a second helping of the missus’ bangers and mash, though.”

Albus sat nervously, unsure if he should laugh or not. Luckily, he was spared from formulating an appropriate response, as Hoggings continued. 

“Tell me, Potter… how are things going so far?” 

Attempting to swallow over a newly formed lump lodged in his throat, Albus fixed what he hoped was a polite smile on his face. “Very good, sir. I’ve enjoyed the... er – challenge?” 

Hoggins dropped his head back and laughed again, so loudly that it echoed off the walls of the office. Albus shuffled in his seat, still unsure how he should react. 

“Enjoyed the challenge, have you?” Hoggins smirked merrily and shook his head. “As I recall, there ain’t much challenge in sorting woodlice and shoveling shite, but someone’s gotta do it.”

If Albus hadn’t been so bloody nervous that he was about to get sacked, he might have felt indignant at the jab. Afterall, it was Hoggins who’d said _‘gotta start somewhere.’_ Yet all he could think of at the moment was how he was going to explain to Scorpius that his career aspirations hadn’t worked out and he’d be forced to move abroad – and perhaps give up magic entirely – to avoid the shame. 

“Don’t talk much, do you?” Hoggins summoned a quill and ink pot and continued without allowing Albus to respond. “S’no matter,” he said flippantly. “We get a lotta introverts ‘round here. The creatures don’t pay much mind to conversation anyhow, do they?”

“I suppose not,” Albus responded quickly, sensing that if he didn’t, they’d never get to the point and he would die of anxiety overload. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about, sir?” 

“Oh yes. Your CV says you’ve a particular interest in aquatic creatures, and did several summer internships with Professor Hagrid managing the Great Lake at Hogwarts. That right?” 

Albus nodded, somewhat surprised that his boss had remembered that, considering how little attention he’d paid to him thus far. 

“Tell me Potter, are you familiar with Jack Swanson?” 

Albus felt his eyes go wide and his jaw slacken. Did he know _Jack Swanson?_ THE leading aquatics researcher at the sanctuary', AND five. times. _best._ seller; according to the Nature of Magic Magazine? 

“Yes, sir,” Albus managed, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice. “He’s a genius. His work surrounding the evolution of Merpeople is revolutionary, and–”

Hoggins’ raised an eyebrow. Albus’ mouth clamped shut so abruptly that his teeth clinked together painfully. 

“He’s a bloody thorn in my side, he is,” Hoggins grumbled peevishly. “Would’ve sacked the pompous hag years ago if he weren’t so good at what he does. Trust me, boy, most people can’t spend more than ten minutes in his company without developing an eye twitch.”

“Oh.” It was a feeble response, but Albus couldn’t think of a better reply. Swanson was something of a hero to him, after all. It was mind boggling to hear someone speak so scathingly of a man who was deeply admired within the research community. 

“But _you,_” Higgins continued, “have managed to take every dirty, tedious, and downright intolerable task I’ve assigned, and not once have you complained. Which leads me to believe that if anyone can handle Swanson, it’ll be you.” 

Albus wasn’t sure at all where this was going, but that sounded like a compliment, so he allowed himself to relax... a bit. This didn’t seem like a sacking, at least. 

“Swanson, the bastard, has demanded an apprentice. Says he can’t handle aquatics on his own anymore because of his bad knee.” Hoggins sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “He could’ve had an entire team years ago if he weren’t such an unpleasant knob. So, what do you say? It’s a good opportunity for a young man like yourself, and comes with salary raise that’s nothing to scoff at, no matter how unbearable Swanson can be.” 

Albus momentarily lost the ability to breathe. Either his boss was playing a very cruel trick on him, or he was actually offering him an opportunity to work with a world renowned Master Magizoologist.

“I need an answer before you leave here, Potter.” Hoggins’ expression was amused again. 

“Yes,” Albus rushed. “I would be honoured, sir. In fact, I can start today. Right now! I’ll go get my uniform.” 

“Calm down, son,” said Hoggins with a deep chuckle. “You’ll start on Monday. And you can get rid of that old uniform. We’ll be sending you a new lab coat via owl. Mind there aren’t any creases and that you pick up a pair of leather loafers. Swanson will have a conniption if you come in with so much as a hair out of place. Got it?”

“Absolutely. No stray hairs, new shoes, no creases, got it.” 

Hoggins nodded with a smile. “Good. I know I've given you a rough go of it. But I needed to know that you could handle this. If you play your cards right, and prove you’re worth your salt, you’ll be in a good position to take over when that miserable tosser retires in a few years. If that’s what you want.” 

“I will. I do! I won’t let you down, sir. I–” 

“Go home, Potter. Celebrate with your family and enjoy your weekend. This won’t be an easy assignment.”

* * *

The grounds of Malfoy Manor were an impressive sight to behold. Ancient wrought iron gates dissolved to reveal a gleaming gravel path lined with hundreds of ornate flower beds, a dozen stone-carved fountains, and several strategically placed white cherry trees – whose fragrant petals blew elegantly across the perfectly manicured lawn year-round. 

To an unwitting caller, the mile long garden appeared to be nothing more than an artfully formidable display of wealth and class, littered with an ostentation of blue peafowl for good measure. But Albus had been coming here just long enough to know that everything at Malfoy Manor had a purpose – a purpose that went well beyond the family’s tendency towards grandeur. 

It had only taken one perfectly innocent attempt to race Scorpius to the front doors for Albus to realise that the snow white peacocks were neither decoration, nor pet – they were security. And the bloodthirsty beasts had held a disturbingly human-like vendetta against him ever since. 

So rather than rush across the grounds at a speed that accurately reflected his current level of excitement, Albus walked at a steady, non-threatening pace until he arrived at the door. 

“Master Potter, we’ve been expecting you.” Ruby, the Malfoys’ only house elf, greeted Albus with a bow. “Master Scorpius is waiting for you in his bedroom.” 

Albus paused, his robe still dangling awkwardly off one arm. “His bedroom?” He asked, tentatively. Surely he’d misheard the elf. He had seen his boyfriend’s bedroom only once before, when Scorpius had first given him a tour of the Manor. Draco had stood in the doorway with a blank expression. His eyes, however, had been dark with a silent warning that plainly told Albus that this space was strictly off limits. 

“Yes, Master Potter, it’s just up the stairs.” Ruby squeaked, pulling off Albus’ robe and sending it flying towards a hook on the wall. 

Albus didn’t move. “Er– perhaps I should wait for him in the sitting room.” He wasn’t keen on being hexed stupid before he could start his new position. “... with Mr. Malfoy.”

Ruby flashed him a knowing smile that was gone as quickly as it came. “Master Draco is away for the weekend on business. He’s given permission for Master Potter to keep Master Scorpius company until he returns. Now, off you go. Ruby must complete her chores.” And with that, Ruby turned and bustled off, leaving Albus alone – and slightly terrified – in the foyer.

* * *

It took Albus nearly ten minutes to work up the courage to hesitantly scale the staircase toward the second floor landing. 

Was it truly possible that Draco Malfoy had given him permission to be here while he was away? _‘To keep Scorpius company...?’ Just the two of them?_ The thought was so laughable that Albus stopped short, just outside of Scorpius’ door, and released a low chuckle. 

No. This was clearly some sort of test. Any moment now Draco would pop out of a darkened corner somewhere and demand to know where in Merlin’s name he thought he was going, and what he planned on doing once he got there. Either that or he’d placed some sort of spell that would cause Albus to break out in hives the moment he crossed the threshold into Scorpius’ room. 

Scorpius’ dad didn’t dislike Albus, per se. He just didn’t trust him. It had been quite a surprise for him (and everyone else, really) when the two of them announced their relationship during their seventh year. He couldn’t understand how the boys – who had been notoriously competitive rivals since the day they were sorted into Ravenclaw – suddenly couldn’t keep their hands off one another. 

Albus couldn’t explain it either. All he knew was that one moment, they were arguing over who was responsible for a minor error in a shared potions assignment, and the next they were snogging fervently – shamelessly rutting together on the floor of their dorm room. Albus hadn’t even known that Scorpius – Quidditch champion and all around stereotypical jock – was gay; that was until he enthusiastically pushed his tongue into Albus’ _not so reluctant_ mouth. 

“Scorp,” Albus called out nervously, careful not to get too close to the door. “Are you there?” 

From the other side, he heard a clatter and quick footsteps before the door flung open. Scorpius rushed him immediately, tackling him into a neck-breaking hug. “Albus!” 

“Hey,” Albus managed through a mouthful of his boyfriend's hair. 

Scorpius pulled back just long enough to give Albus a cocky smile, before surging forward again – this time bringing their lips together in a heated kiss. “I’ve been half hard all day waiting for you,” he breathed, sending a shiver down Albus’ spine. A shiver that violently thrust him back to reality. 

Albus disentangled himself and took three quick steps backwards – snapping his head back and forth to see if they’d been caught. Thankfully, the hall was clear. 

“Are you nuts?” he hissed. “Your father will hex my bollocks off if he catches us!” 

Scorpius threw his head back and laughed. “Didn’t Ruby tell you? Father’s gone to France for the weekend. We have the whole place to ourselves.” His eyes were sparkling with triumph – the same look he had when he won a quidditch match, or out-performed Albus in an assignment. 

Albus cocked an eyebrow and regarded Scorpius suspiciously. “Yes. She mentioned that, but…”

“It’s not a trick, babe,” Scorpius assured as he stepped closer and planted a light kiss on Albus’ temple. His hands trailed down Albus’ back and down to waist before pulling them flush together. “I may have, er– _gently_ persuaded him to give us some alone time together.

Albus squirmed in Scorpius’ embrace; from nervousness or anticipation, he wasn’t sure. “H-how?” 

Scorpius’ eyes flashed with mirth and Albus nearly choked when he said airily, “I _might_ have mentioned that you and I are looking at flats to let in London.”

“What!” Albus exclaimed as the use of his vocal cords returned. “Merlin, he’s going to murder me! We said we were going to wait at least another year.”

“Relax, love.” Scorpius giggled and began peppering kisses across his face – which was now burning hot with panic. “He’s not going to kill you. I know he’s not ready for me to move out, so I exaggerated the timeline a bit.” 

“You threatened to move out if your dad didn’t give us some space?” Albus asked incredulously. 

“Not in so many words… but yes, he got the message.” His boyfriend may have been sorted into Ravenclaw, but his Slytherin heritage had never been more apparent. 

“For fuck’s sake, Scor!” 

“For _fuck’s_ sake indeed.” Scorpius’ wicked gleam went straight to Albus’ neglected cock, and before he could formulate a proper response, he was lifted off his feet and carried across the obnoxiously large room. 

All thoughts of his promotion fled Albus’ mind as Scorpius carefully laid him on the bed and stepped back to admire the sight. Albus flushed bright red under the scrutiny, and for a moment, they simply stared at one another – eyes locked and filled with unabashed desire. They didn’t need to discuss it; they’d both been ready for this for ages. 

It was Albus who made the first move. Slowly, without a word, he moved his slightly trembling hands under hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. 

Scorpius’ eyes darkened as he raked them over Albus’ exposed chest and down his slim stomach. 

“Are you going to stand there and watch?” Albus breathed, surprising himself with his own candor as his fingers dipped lower to unclasp his straining trousers. “Or are you going to join me?” 

Scorpius paused, and for the first time ever, Albus noticed a flinch of insecurity in his boyfriend’s expression. “I want it to be…” his voice trailed off and he swallowed hard – his Adam’s apple moving up and down alluringly. “Just…” Once again, Scorpius didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast several spells so quickly that Albus was unable to make them out over the ringing in his ears. 

In an instant, the lights were dimmed and an array of floating candles sprung up around them. A soft melody began to play and the scent of magnolia blossoms filled the air. Albus’ stomach flipped. He wasn't entirely surprised by the gesture. Scorpius had always been something of a closeted romantic; private gifts and soppy letters. Still, it never ceased to amaze him. 

_Bloody hell,_ he was irrevocably and hopelessly in love. 

Scorpius dropped his wand onto the floor and moved closer. “Fucking hell, babe. I’m nervous now.” 

“We’ll take it slow,” Albus assured, leaning forward to take Scorpius’ hand. He didn’t want to rush either. “We’ve got all weekend, right? Let’s make the most of it.”

A small smile spread across Scorpius’ lips and he allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed. He positioned himself on his knees in between Albus’ outstretched legs – despite the soft, glowing light, Albus could make out a slight blush tinting his pale cheeks. It was a rare and beautiful sight that Albus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing. He shifted closer, bringing his hand up to caress the warm skin there. “I love you,” he whispered, as he brought his eyes up to meet Scorpius’ sensuous gaze. 

“I love you too,” Scorpius replied, before moving forward and pressing their lips together. The kiss was gentle and tentative, but it felt like fire on Albus’ tongue – like months and months of pent-up desire being released from their bodies all at once. 

They undressed slowly, taking their time to explore uncharted territories. Each touch lingered, each kiss was savoured, and when Scorpius finally slid a slickened finger inside him, Albus saw stars. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the way it felt as they moved together. It wasn’t seamless. It was awkward and uncomfortable at times. But Scorpius’ soothing voice and gentle reassurances kept him anchored. Albus had never felt more safe, or more loved – and when he cried out his release, Scorpius promptly followed.

* * *

Albus and Scorpius lay tangled together – cleaned up, but still bare skinned and breathless. Albus had his arm thrown over Scorpius’ heaving chest and his face buried into the crook of his neck. He felt utterly drained, and sore in places that he’d never been sore before, yet he’d never felt more relaxed. 

“I have something to tell you,” he mumbled sleepily, lifting his head up just enough to gaze at his boyfriend’s contented expression. Scorpius’ eyes were shut tight, but he grinned and nodded in response. 

“I had a meeting with my boss today,” Albus continued, pride swelling in his chest. “He’s chosen me to apprentice with Jack Swanson.” 

Scorpius’ eyes flew open. “That’s brilliant!” he exclaimed, pulling Albus in for a messy kiss that caused his belly to tingle pleasantly. “I knew you could do it, love. It was just a matter of time.” 

Albus preened. “The best part is that we’ll be able to spend loads more–” Albus paused. The tingling in his stomach was becoming more pronounced and seemed to be spreading up his chest and down his thighs. 

“Albus, are you okay?” Scorpius sat up quickly, with panic in his voice. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you?” 

“No. I–” Albus doubled over as the sensation grew stronger – in seconds it had covered his entire body. Unable to remain still any longer, Albus began to wither around, clutching at his sides. It felt like a particularly aggressive… _ticking charm?_

_Draco Bloody Malfoy,_ he thought before succumbing to breathless giggles.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [@Scarshavestories](https://scarshavestories.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this thing on such short notice. She goes above and beyond with witty and heart warming comments that make the beta process so much fun. 
> 
> I've gifted this work to Alikatastic as a thanks for their inspiration and to hopefully inspire them. (You are an incredible writer, my friend!)


End file.
